Page 32 of The Golden Boy’s Guide to Bipolar

The second my end-of-therapy alarm goes off, I head straight for the door. Dr. Lee tries to invite me to group again, but

I ignore her. There are a few other people around my age sitting in the lobby. Their faces are familiar since they’re here

every week after I get out of therapy, but we’ve never interacted. When I try to walk past them this time, my mom grabs my

hand to stop me.

“Not so fast, mijo. You still have group to go to.”

“I never agreed to go to group.” I pull my hand away from her. How did she even find out about group? I sure as hell never

mentioned it. I mentally curse Dr. Lee for snitching on me yet again.

“I agreed for you,” she says. “It will be good for you to bond with kids your age who are going through something similar.”

I can feel everyone around us staring at me, and it makes me want to make a run for it. But I don’t want to make even more

of a scene than I already have if I’m going to have to see the same people every single week.

None of these people care about me and my problems, so I really don’t see the point of group, but in the name of not embarrassing myself even further, I drag my feet and follow the rest of them into a larger room.

At least this will get my mom to leave me alone.

We all sit in a circle of chairs in the middle of the room, with Dr. Lee at the head of the circle. She doesn’t have her usual

notepad this time, which makes it feel like we’re in a totally different setting, even if it’s therapy all the same.

Just when she’s about to start, someone else walks into the room and takes the empty chair across the circle from mine. I

almost get out of my seat and walk away right then and there at seeing Avery.

He’s basically Nicks’ left ballsack, the way he’s always hanging around him and doing literally anything Nick tells him to.

When they used to jump me, Avery was the one who held me back while the rest of them wailed on me.

I clench my jaw as Avery’s eyes meet mine for a split moment before he quickly looks away. The last thing I want to be doing

is therapy with him , but if I leave now, he’ll have the satisfaction of knowing it’s because of him. I’ll be damned if I’m giving Avery even

an inch of satisfaction at seeing me here. So I refuse to let him take any information about me back to Nick and them. If

there’s any consolation, it’s that he’s still got the ankle bracelet on, so I’m relatively safe, at least from a physical

fight.

“Since we have a couple of new faces today, let’s go around the circle and introduce ourselves. You can start with your name,

pronouns, and your diagnosis, if you’re comfortable giving it. Zo, would you like to start?” Dr. Lee looks to the kid on her

right, who’s wearing a shirt with the Mexican flag on it, with the word DECOLONIZE written in bold over the flag.

“Sure! I’m Zo. They/them pronouns, please,” they say while playing with a strand of their neon-pink hair.

“I’m bipolar.” Dr. Lee discreetly glances in my direction at that with a small smile, and I roll my eyes, hoping Avery didn’t catch that look.

Then Zo looks to the person next to them, who’s also next to me.

A goth Black girl with a slight facial twitch I didn’t notice until now.

“I’m Nia, she/her,” Nia says, blinking a little more frequently than most people. “Schizophrenia.”

Then everyone looks to me, and I shift a little in my chair. “Cesar, he/him,” I say, hoping to just get this over with. Dr.

Lee did say we only had to give our diagnosis if we were comfortable with it, so she better not call me out on this.

Thankfully, she doesn’t. Everyone’s attention moves on to the guy to my right. He’s a kind of plain-looking white guy in jeans

and a white tee.

“I’m Aaron. He/him. Uhh...” He looks around the group, as if deciding what to say next. He might be even more uncomfortable

here than I am. I bet he’s the other new guy. “I have borderline personality disorder,” he finally says, then lets out a small

breath of relief and turns to the last person in the circle.

“I’m Avery. He/him. PTSD,” Avery says as he shifts in his seat. Not only am I surprised he willingly gave his pronouns when

that seems like something his friends would laugh at him about, but also that he volunteered his diagnosis in front of the

guy he used to beat up. Part of me wonders if him saying that in front of me is some kind of peace offering.

Then again, it might have nothing to do with me.

Maybe he’s just comfortable in this group, even if I’m in it now.

Now that I think of it, it makes sense that Jamal said he’s like a different person when his friends aren’t around.

He even physically looks different. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with his shoulders relaxed until now.

I still hate him, though, obviously.

“Wonderful.” Dr. Lee folds her hands on her lap. “For those of you new today, I like to start our sessions by giving an opportunity

for anyone to share something good that’s happened in the last week.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds before Zo says, “Avery has some good news, right?” They mime nudging Avery with their elbow.

“I mean, kind of... ,” he says. “Some lawyer found out about my case and wants to help me pro bono.”

“That’s great news!” Dr. Lee says.

“Not really.” Avery shrugs and looks down. “He wants me to snitch on my friend to get off, and I’m not doing that. I don’t

need his charity anyway.” For once, I find myself almost rooting for Avery. Him snitching on Nick would be incredible.

No one else seems to have any good news to share, so Dr. Lee goes on with the session. “This week I want to talk about medication,

and all the different paths we can go on to finding the right fit for us.”

She keeps talking, but I kind of zone out. I’m not really trying to get back on my medication, even if everyone around me

thinks I never stopped. It isn’t until Dr. Lee changes the topic that I have to pay attention again. “All right, now let’s

go around and talk about our journey with medication, and how we all got to where we are now. Who’d like to start us off?”

Zo raises their hand to start once again. I get a feeling Zo is Dr. Lee’s favorite.

“I’m really liking the meds I’m on. I just hit six months, and I finally got my bloodwork done to see if I have any side effects.” They smile widely. “Turns out every health problem my old meds caused is getting better now with these new meds, so I get to stay on them!”

“Lucky you,” Avery says, crossing his arms. “When I hit the six-month mark with my meds, they stopped working. Then the next

one I tried started giving me seizures because it reacted wrong to my other medication. Had to stop cold, and now I have to

see a neurologist before I can get approved to switch again.” Avery glances around the room but still avoids my eyes.

Yikes. Yeah, I’m definitely not going back on my meds.

“And we’ll find something that works for you, Avery. It’s just a matter of time,” Dr. Lee says.

“That’s why I’m not on meds anymore,” Aaron says. “I don’t want to deal with the health problems or side effects.”

“And that’s why we work extra hard on our coping skills, right, Aaron?” He nods. “Now that you’re eighteen, that’s your prerogative.

What about you, Cesar? Nia?”

“I just switched meds,” Nia says, saving me from having to answer the question. “I didn’t think meds could make the hallucinations

completely go away, but they did. Only downside is I’ve got this twitch now,” she says with a twitch of her nose. “But I can

live with a twitch if it means I’m not being told to kill myself every five seconds.”

It finally comes back to me, and I have to say something so no one knows I’ve been lying about taking my meds this whole time.

“I switched recently. Can’t complain,” I lie through my teeth.

Deflecting has become second nature for me now. I spend most of my time at home in my room, so no one asks me any questions. Well, so my mom doesn’t. I think the Yami bridge has been thoroughly burned. It’s only a matter of time before the one with my mom burns down too.

At school, I’ve been avoiding Bianca, and feeling like the world’s biggest coward for it. Dating Bianca should be easy. I’m

into girls . And Bianca is hot. I’m actually attracted to her, and when she went down on me at that party, I did like it. So why can’t

I face her?

The truth threatens to peek its head out.

Yami.

Jamal.

But I immediately brush those thoughts away. I did this on purpose. I wanted to get rid of them, and everything is going exactly

according to plan. With Jamal and Yami out of my life, and my mom slowly starting to back off, there will be no one to feel

guilty over whatever does or doesn’t happen to me.

So I stick with the plan and make it a point to sit with Bianca and her friends at lunch the next day. For some reason, she

doesn’t seem to notice or care that I’ve been avoiding her. When I get a text from Hunter, she doesn’t even seem bothered

by me texting him in favor of paying any attention to her.

Hunter: Haven’t seen you in a minute. What are you doing next week?

Cesar: I’m grounded, so nothing

Cesar: therapy is my only social life apparently

Hunter: I’ll give you a ride home from therapy then lol

I let out a little laugh. I don’t get why Hunter keeps hitting me up or why he cares to hang out with me. I’m not who he thinks I am, and hopefully he doesn’t figure that out any time soon. But if Hunter driving me home from therapy gives me less time alone with my mom, I’ll take it.

I send Hunter a thumbs-up before I’m pulled out of my thoughts by Bianca. She scoots sort of next to me, sort of halfway on

my lap. She kisses my cheek while I eat the nasty school chicken nuggets. I don’t even care that they’re disgusting and probably

moldy. Eating helps, if nothing else does.

I just chew silently while Bianca talks shit about her cousin or something. She’s always talking shit, and if I don’t say

anything she usually wears herself out eventually.